The Players may be able to cross the Cut. And we can’t fight them off.
My escaping the Playhouse will mean nothing. There will be nothing left to go home to. There may beno oneleftif they have their way.
“ThatPlayer who has you has refused any talks of peace until the Great Dionysia.” Galen shakes his head. “If the wall falls, there’s little to stop them.” He locks his gaze on mine. “We may not see the light of a new treaty. We have no leverage to bargain with.”
And the North will be back at the mercy of the Players all over again. Even today, Syrene’s streets are said to be red from the original Players drenching their land in so much blood, the rain couldn’t wash it away.
“Leverage,” I whisper to myself.Leverage.“Wait—but wedo.” I lock eyes with Galen, a horrible idea materializing before my eyes. “Me.”
Cassia looks up, her eyes flashing to Galen.
“No,”he says, resolute. “What matters is getting yououtof—”
“But I can help!” I press, trying to sound more certain than I feel. “I can get leverage.”
“Galen,” Cassia tries again. Her face is meek, but I see the calculation behind her eyes. “The things she could learn may be invaluable to—”
“And risk the Player realizing whose family she comes from?” Galen raises his voice. “She is achild,Cassia.”
“I amnota child,” I grind out. “Dear gods, Galen, I am onlyfour yearsyounger than your twenty-two!” Besides, I’ve survived this long. I fought a Player and lived to see another day. Clearly I am capable.
In fact, this may be the best chance I have to prove it. How could the councilnotpardon my ruined mark if I deliver them everything they need to stop the Playhouse?
The possibility gleams like a shiny trophy in my mind. I wouldn’t be Riven-cursed-by-a-Player. I wouldn’t even be Riven-the-dead-Peacemaker’s-daughteranymore.
I would just be Riven. I could finish what my father started. I could do what he couldn’t.
People won’t be afraid of thatRiven. There’ll be a place for thatRiven.
A stinging sensation brings my attention to the place my mark used to be. I have a score to settle with Jude now.
Maybe I can do both at once.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My ear has grown familiar with Jude’s deliberate, quick steps. He’s closing in on the hall. I’m out of time.
And my mind is made up.
“Get a message to the council for me,” I say, snapping my gaze up to Galen. “Tell them to ready a new contract for the Playhouse to sign, one that details every ban on the North and the Cut imaginable. The Playhouseis to surrender their every right to perform in the North.”
Cassia stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Their director will never sign—”
“Would he trade one of his Players’ lives for it?” I ask urgently. “If the North had one of the Players as collateral. Would Silenus make a trade? Peace in exchange for the life of his Player. That’s how the firsttreaty was forged.”
Even Cassia steps back at this. “Riven, to capture a Player would mean—”
“Donotentertain this, Cassia,” Galen says firmly, anger falling across his expression as he turns to scold me. “Whatever you’re thinking isnotworth—”
“But it worked once!” My grade-school memory cards flicker through my mind. “A Player was captured and traded in exchange for peace.” It kept the Playhouse out for five hundred years. Why couldn’t it keep them out for five hundred more?
The door, which I’ve chained shut, shakes. I hear Jude on the other side. Along with furious mutterings that sound suspiciously like, “My kingdom for a moment’s peace from that woman.”
I swallow, lowering my voice to a whisper, studying their tour schedule, calculating the dates.
RIVEN: “Tell the council to prepare to make a trade with the Playhouse in Syrene. I’ll meet them there.” I breathe, glancing toward the door. “And I’m bringing their Lead Player.”
I push away from the mirror, banishing the connection before Galen can respond.
For the first time, the roar of rage in my head sounds more like applause.
